


Quicksand

by theredumbrella



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredumbrella/pseuds/theredumbrella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truth is, she doesn't want to say it out loud. For thousands of obvious reasons. But just one remains in the recesses of her mind. Because once she says it out loud, it becomes undeniably real. He needed to know. That he's not the only one who's slowly losing their mind over this. Somehow, he feels like that the answer to that question was something that he wasn't ready to hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. Here I am again with a Dramione drabble that just had to be written. The title is taken from Bridgit Mendler's song, Quicksand. Don't forget to tell me what you think.
> 
> p.s.-It's not my usual angst, I know. But it's not fluff either. I honestly don't know where this one particularly falls. Hmm...

She looks at him and her heart _stops_. Like it has jumped into her throat and she can’t swallow.

She doesn’t even want to think about it, but how could she actually help it? It was the only thought that was running through her mind, like a train that was off the rails, she was utterly hopeless.

“Are you alright, Hermione?” The redheaded girl asked, her eyes filled with concern.

She finally finds the courage to swallow the lump in her throat and mumble out an affirmative.

Ginny just nods and smiles apologetically at her, and she felt herself cringing on the inside. 

 

* * *

 

They say that when the truth comes, it hits you like a wrecking ball. They weren’t kidding at all when they said that. At least that’s what he’s feeling right now.

As he looked across the Hall, something that happened so often these past few days that he actually thought that he was slowly losing it, he had to stop.

Yes, this was beginning to become such an ordinary occurrence; but lately, or as of this hour, if one wanted to be precise, something was different.

Her eyes connect with his for a split-second and everything he’s ever known flies out the window. She turns her head to talk to the redhead, but all he notices is how her hair was particularly shiny today, no longer the same mass of curls it was back in their first year. Or how, for that split-second, her eyes weren’t the brown he imagined them to be, but a honey color.

He shakes his head. No. He feels that sting of affection in the back of his throat and he almost wants to vomit at the foreign feeling, why wasn’t his body rejecting this emotion?

He looks at her again, maybe trying to convince himself that she still looks plain, boring, or anything that would quash the foreign feeling swelling within him, but he can’t. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t try. It doesn’t mean that he succeeds.

_Because, just maybe, he wanted to feel it too._

* * *

There it is again. That familiar feeling that sets itself into the pit of her stomach whenever she manages to steal a glance or two his way, and she really can’t help it. And she hates it. She hates not being in control, not being able to have a say in the situation, not even being able to stop herself from looking at him. How pathetic was that? She honestly didn’t even want to answer the question for fear that she might say something that she can’t take back.

She catches him looking at her and the sneer that mostly took up residence on his face wasn’t there. A simple, unnoticeable to a stranger’s eye, quirk of his head and she wonders if he feels it too. If he feels that uncontrollable urge to always know where the other one is. The urge to know if the other knows they existed. Did he actually know that his eyes were more of silver than grey?

That’s it. She’s definitely lost it.

But then again, they were silver once you really thought about it.

And she was safe in her mind, wasn’t she?

_Wasn’t she?_

* * *

Everything was going too slow. Frustratingly so. So slow that he felt like he was going to explode at any given moment.

Surely, she feels it too? That he’s not the only one who’s slowly losing their mind over this. Somehow, he feels like that the answer to that question was something that he wasn’t ready to hear yet.

And as he looks at the girl in front of him, he can’t help but see her face, her hair, her lips, and he feels like he’s failing her somewhat. Like she’s holding up her end of the bargain, and he isn’t.

He wonders if the fact that he sees her everywhere makes an actual difference.

If she actually would ever feel the same way.

_Or he was just slowly losing himself in a delusion._

* * *

 

 

“What exactly is bothering you, Hermione? You’ve been out of it for quite a few days now. At first, I didn’t really say anything but I can’t take it anymore.” She turns her head towards the voice and she can’t help but shrug. Of course she knew exactly what was bothering her. The question was that if she was completely sure of herself to divulge the answer. “Exams. That’s it, Gin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the library. Snape’s got a foot-long essay on boomslang skin due next week.” And as she picked up her books and walked herself out the door, she felt Ginny’s accusing eyes on her, feel the lie that she managed to spout out seep into her skin and her consciousness, poisoning her from the inside.

Truth is, she doesn’t want to say it out loud. For thousands of obvious reasons. But just one remains in the recesses of her mind.

Because once she says it out loud, it becomes undeniably _real._

* * *

“I, for one, am shocked to see you here.” His voice drawls over to where she’s sitting, the sarcasm not unwelcome, but not unfamiliar either.

“Very funny, Malfoy.” She manages to reply; the scratching of her quill against the parchment and her hammering heartbeat was enough to quell the silence between them.

“Draco.”

She stops, her quill in midair over the inkbottle, and she slowly turns her eyes to his. He clears his throat, as if sensing the moment was becoming unbearably awkward.

“I beg your pardon?” She tries to act nonchalant, but the lump in her throat is hard to ignore.

“I have a name, Granger. It’s Draco.” He says it again in that familiar drawl that makes goosebumps appear on her skin and her mind to race a mile a minute.

“Uh yes, of course, you do...Draco it is then.” It feels weird rolling off her tongue, but again, like his lazy drawl, completely not unwelcome. Along with that shiver that managed to make its way down her spine.

He feels like his heart just jumped into his throat, but he manages to maintain a cool exterior. After all, nobody can know that he’s slowly crumbling on the inside. Especially not her. Especially not when he’s not ready to say it out loud yet.

She stares at him, trying to decipher feelings that have managed to break the surface, and she just shakes her head and goes back to writing her essay, her cursive slowly losing its normal legibility.

“Hermione.” She stops, almost spilling ink everywhere, and she felt like she just got hit with a _Stupefy._

“I figured that I should return the favor. After all, it took you a while to say mine.” He shrugs, and a piece of his hair falls into his eyes, where she felt the urge to slowly run her hands through it. The look on his face made her want to laugh, it was so unlike him yet a part of her felt that this was something that he managed to keep secret so well.

She nods her approval and she can’t help but smile.

Maybe it’s something?

Maybe it was the beginning? Or the end? Maybe even getting to admit something that they both knew? An illusion of depravity?

_And as they both stood there, no one was the wiser._


	2. Speechless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione pick up from where they left off, at least 17 days after where they left off. And things are still as awkward as ever, well as far as Hermione is concerned. Then again, it's not like Draco has an easy time either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't really plan on writing a second chapter to this little drabble but the plot bunny just wouldn't stop and I just gave in. I had fun writing this and the style is definitely a treat to write, the jumps between the POVs might get confusing but I think it just lends another dynamic to their ever-confusing relationship. I'm actually looking forward to making this a multi-chaptered fic. Enjoy!

_Day 17_

_This day is not getting any better._

At least that’s what she thought. How utterly pathetic. She’s managed to count down the days since they managed to speak to each other in the library. 17 bloody days and sleepless nights since then.

Since he managed to utter her name in that devastatingly charming voice of his.

_Since she’s managed to say his name out loud without the overwhelming sense of fear. The fear of falling into something she can’t get out of._

 

* * *

 

She passes by the corridors towards the Potions classrooms and she sees him. _Alone_. And she can’t help that little skip that her heart managed to do. Or how her palms were suddenly damp and her breathing hard. She grips the book bag far harder than what she normally would and idly wonders if she looks okay or if she managed to fix her hair today.

She shakes her head at herself and pops her chin out proud. She was Hermione Granger. And they didn’t put her in Gryffindor for nothing.

That thought manages to keep her heart from beating out of her chest, even if it manages to stop her alarming heart rate, what comes next she possibly couldn’t have psyched herself out of, no matter how shameful it was considering what House she was in.

_Not even being in Godric Gryffindor’s presence could have made her brave in what she thought could have been the most nerve-wracking moment of her life._

 

* * *

 

It’s been more than two weeks since he managed to talk to her. Two weeks where he’d been trying, hopelessly, to erase the feelings and at the same time, relive them every waking moment.

Of the way she almost looked like she had a heart attack when he managed to say her name, which he found so disarmingly adorable. Of the way she tried to focus on writing her essay to no avail. Of the way she said his name. His name. And he realised that was one of the best things he’s ever heard. His name coming from her. But then he wasn’t ready for what came out of her next.

_Her smile. Directed at him and only him._

Just when he thought his name coming from her was the best thing since they released the Firebolt, she smiles at him and that’s when he realises what he’s been feeling all along.

_He’s dug his own grave and he knows it._

 

* * *

 

He looks up from his perch by the corridors near the Potions classrooms and he has half a mind to run the other direction and not look back. He honestly thinks that this is pathetic, since when did Draco Malfoy ever back down from anything? Much less a girl?

But she was her. Her. The only word he could ever think to describe her was with her own name, he could try using other adjectives but they never seemed to suffice.

_Never seem to manage to capture her in her entirety._

Her hair is half up, half down today, his fingers itching to tuck that stray curl behind her ear and he just aimlessly grips at the wall to compensate. Her book bag almost bursting at the seams, and he almost manages to laugh at his little bookworm.

Wait, his? Since when did his brain label Hermione Granger his?

He looks up again and their eyes meet. She fidgets and looks like a deer in headlights, and he thinks of how he must look to her, like a lovesick puppy? He didn’t know and he didn’t care.

_But did she honestly have no idea of how she affected him?_

 

* * *

 

“Hermione.”

One word. Her name. Coming from him, it was entirely something else. She almost drops her book bag and trips over her own feet but by some sort of miracle, clumsy Hermione doesn’t make her appearance and she gets to keep her dignity. What’s left of it anyways. “

Yes, Draco?” Good, her voice doesn’t betray her and she manages to keep her feelings in check.

“Well, it’s been two wee-”

“17 days actually…” Before she realised it, the words came out like vomit and she immediately puts a hand up to her mouth in shock. She’s lost it definitely.

He laughs. Draco Malfoy actually laughs and leans up off the wall and comes closer, his grey eyes filled with mirth, a sight she never thought she’d see on the so-called Slytherin Prince.

That is it.

_She is done for._

 

* * *

 

He laughs cause it’s adorable coming from her. She’s actually counted the days and he finds it charming. Trust little miss Granger to even track the days and he hopes that he’s not the only one who’s been losing sleep over this. That he’s in her head just as much as she is in his.

He laughs again but he notices she looks mortified, her eyes dilated, her hand on her mouth, a beautiful red stain on her cheeks. Suddenly he feels the need to placate her, to tell her it’s alright and he wonders where this side of him is coming from.

“It’s alright. As I was saying, Hermione, it’s been two weeks since we’ve managed to properly acquaint ourselves and I think that it has gone on for too long without us actually acknowledging it so here I am.” Did he honestly just sound like Mr. Darcy there? Smooth, Draco, damn it.

She just nods, her curls bouncing, that red blush still blooming beautifully on her cheeks. He wants to laugh but he holds it in, knowing it might mortify her even more.

“Well, I was just wondering if you’d be interested in going to Hogsmeade?” There. He’s managed to spit it out.

_Little does he know is that he’s managed to floor her._

_He’s managed what tons of people weren’t able to do._

_Render Hermione Granger speechless._

 

* * *

 

Hermione didn’t know what hit her.

_“Well, I was just wondering if you’d be interested in going to Hogsmeade?”_

Hermione just about sank to the floor, her knees almost giving out on her.

Did Draco Malfoy, The Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince just ask her out?

_She was speechless._


End file.
